Under Normal Circumstances

Little Black Dress

"Maybelle, what am I going to do with you?" My mom complained after the fifth ensemble. "It's impossible to dress you head to toe in black without it looking... seductive!"

"Mom."

I didn't have it in me to vehemently protest since my sister had just kicked me out. After two days of being a maid, babysitter, personal manager and cook I overheard her on the phone with mom saying I was having nightmares and she couldn't handle it and didn't want it to freak out Billy. The little guy had been totally cool about it though. He'd crawl into my bed and wake me up from them. He asked me if I had nightmares because I had seen scary things and I said yes. He said he had nightmares about scary stuff too, so he understood.

Grace, however, did not. So here I was, back in my parents house, finding a funeral outfit.

"I think we'll just have to go shopping," mom said as she threw up her hands.

I stood in a black dress that hugged every curve and made me look like a slinky little cocktail waitress and had to agree with her.

I changed into denim shorts and a black t shirt, throwing Slivko's shirt over it. Mom looked concerned every time I wore it, but it helped with the anxiety of having a sister that hated me.

We got to the mall and went in every department store, mom trying to explain to the sales people what we were looking for. A black button down and pencil skirt made me look like a business woman, every dress looked like a party dress which was not appropriate, and suits made me look like an old lady or a politicians daughter. Nothing looked proper for a funeral and mom was losing her mind. I couldn't care less but I was running out of energy from changing my clothes 23 times. She finally spotted one in a store window as we were driving home and quickly parked the car. Two minutes later I had it on. It was simple with cap sleeves and came to my knee.

Mom sighed.
"Well I suppose if Marylin went to a funeral she'd look like that too."

We bought it.

•••••

I jolted up in bed with a cold sweat trickling down my face and tried to catch my breath. I had a nightmare that Grace was haunting me like a ghost on the island, screaming at me the whole time to hurry up and go save her husband. I threw back my covers and went to the bathroom to wash my face. As I looked at my frazzled self in the mirror I wished that Slivko had told me the trick to make the nightmares stop. A sudden idea came to me. That night in the hammock I don't remember having bad dreams until Slivko had left me alone, even though he said I did. I went back to my room and softly closed the door. I grabbed Slivko's shirt, the soap and the letter before hopping on my bed. I grabbed my extra pillow and buttoned up the shirt around it and then I rubbed the bar of soap on it a little. I snuggled in bed with it and read the letter in the dim light over and over until I fell back asleep.

"You're easy to love."

••••••

I woke up to mom gently knocking on my door. I was curled around Slivko's stuffed shirt like my life depended on it and I covered it up with my blankets before mom could open the door.

"Good morning sweetheart," she smiled softly in at me. "Breakfast is ready. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," I yawned.

"Oh good, glad to hear it," she said before stepping out again.

I took the pillow out of the shirt and folded it carefully, putting the soap and the letter in the front pocket before hiding it under my pillow.

And that became my routine every night leading up to the funeral.